


Kass*

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Castiel (Supernatural) Has a Cat, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-02 19:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6579016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean thinks Cas needs cheering up. Sam questions his idea. Cas is very, very grateful. Cue three grown men turning into saps wrapped around kitten paws...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kissa

Sam took in the eager look in Dean's eyes as he came to a halt in front of the Impala in the garage and felt the smallest touch of trepidation. There was a kind of silent excitement in Dean's eyes that Sam associated with surprise birthday gifts or impromptu presents, which, in fairness, was normally no bad thing.

 

But the fact that he'd received a message from Dean to meet him in the garage to help carry stuff up told him a few things. One, whatever this thing was, it was big. Two, this was clearly something for Cas that Dean was really, really excited about giving him. Which meant that Three, Cas would probably be really, really appreciative about receiving the gift.

 

Which in turn meant all sorts of things for Sam himself that involved sounds he didn't want to hear, sights he didn't want to see, and a lot of biding his time in his room. With earphones in.

 

He idly considered taking one of the cars he could see in front of him and driving away, far away, right now, and finding a motel for the night to give Cas ample time to say _thank you_.

 

Instead, Sam squared his shoulders and told himself to pull himself together as Dean jumped out of the car and passed him, squeezing his shoulder with enthusiasm as he did.

 

Sam couldn't blame Dean, not really.

 

Cas had been down of late, lacking the interest to do much of anything besides watch TV. And Dean-related things of course, Sam corrected himself and winced at that thought, but it was still true.

 

Dean was worried about him. Sam was as well, in a way, but obviously he was not quite at the near-frantic, overreacting edge Dean that was dancing along. If Sam had to listen to one more _what do you think I can do to cheer him up?_ or _you think there's something he's not telling me?_ he'd possibly earn himself some kind of injury with his response, which thankfully so far he'd managed to hold in.

 

Pushing this internal monologue to one side, Sam followed as Dean beckoned him to the car trunk, passing him several large bags that ranged in weight and shape, before slamming the lid shut and then tensing at the sound of it, standing perfectly still.

 

Sam kept watching as Dean slowly screwed up his face in a wince of regret, moved around to the side of the car and gently opened the door, then ducking inside for a moment before pulling out-

 

“Tell me you didn't,” Sam breathed, eyes blown wide in disbelief.

 

“Give him something to focus on besides Bones on repeat, right?” Dean said, smiling at the box in his hands affectionately and as though he'd had the best idea since the history of ideas.

 

Sam looked down at Dean's hands before back up to his face, still incredulous.

 

“C'mon,” Dean said, practically bouncing out of his own skin in excitement. “Let's go set this thing up,”

 

Sam watched for a moment as Dean disappeared out of view before following, muttering under his breath about this being a lot more than just a _thing_.

 


	2. Macska

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turned out, mostly to Sam's relief, that Dean's idea of 'setting this thing up' involved him carefully placing the pet carrier down on the table in the corner of the bunker they'd sort of converted into a living room, and directing Sam to put the bags down on the floor in front of it. 
> 
> Sam went to stick a finger through the gaps in the box but Dean batted his hand away.
> 
> “Let him touch him first, 'k?”

It turned out, mostly to Sam's relief, that Dean's idea of 'setting this thing up' involved him carefully placing the pet carrier down on the table in the corner of the bunker they'd sort of converted into a living room, and directing Sam to put the bags down on the floor in front of it.

 

Sam went to stick a finger through the gaps in the box but Dean batted his hand away.

 

“Let him touch him first, 'k?”

 

Sam shrugged, smirking, and sat down at the far end of the couch, watching as Dean disappeared.

 

Sam heard him and Cas returning long before they appeared, Cas' mumbled complaints about Dean dragging him away from the crime scene cut out by what Sam could only assume was Dean kissing him quiet, and he shuddered at the thought. Not that he'd never seen that happening before. Rather, that he saw it happening, all the time.

 

When Dean and Cas finally turned the corner, Sam looked up to see Dean leading Cas in with his hand over Cas' eyes, and carefully guiding him to sit on the couch near all of his new purchases so he didn't walk into them.

 

“Now, Cas,” Dean warned, and to Sam it sounded like a repeated warning, “When I move my hand, I want you to keep your eyes closed and put your hands in your lap, palms up, just like we said, okay?”

 

“Okay, Dean,” Cas' tone was reluctantly patient, tinged with an edge of curiosity.

 

Sam continued watching in mild amusement as Dean walked over to the pet carrier, carefully drew the bolt through to open the door, and gently reached inside, pulling out a tiny bundle of grey fur that instantly starting protesting at being picked up.

 

Cas' facial expression altered in surprise at the sound, but he did as Dean had asked and kept his eyes firmly shut. When Dean gently lowered the tiny kitten into Cas' open hands he let out a small gasp.

 

“Can I open my eyes now, Dean?” Cas asked shakily, his fingers already curving up to stroke at the fur he felt there.

 

“Yeah, Cas, now's good,”

 

“Oh...”

 

Cas' first response to seeing his gift was breathy, and full of wonder, as though there had never been such a thing before.

 

Sam supposed there hadn't really; before Cas had met the Winchesters he probably had never known much beyond what a gift was, let alone actually received one.

 

The amazement in Cas' eyes as he carefully raised the kitten to eye level to inspect it was, okay, Sam thought, kind of cute.

 

The kitten instantly stopped mewling in complaint the second it came face to face with Cas, blinking up at him and echoing his blue eyes back at him. It reached out, two tiny paws landing on his cheek, which immediately had Cas grinning, and that grin just grew when the kitten leaned forward, sniffed him, and started to lick just at the corner of his eyebrow.

 

“Think he likes you, Cas,” Dean said softly, watching in utter adoration as Cas bonded with his kitten. Cas lifted him up gently, turning him over, inspecting every inch of him without the kitten protesting once. In fact it seemed to arch into Cas' fingers, purring loudly with every gentle touch.

 

“I hope so,” Cas whispered, unable to drag his eyes away.

 

“Gonna name him?”

 

Cas tilted his head from one side to the other, studying the kitten in thought. Finally, and decisively, he announced, “Mushuk,”

 

“'Mushuk'?” Sam and Dean repeated in unison; Sam in amusement, Dean in doubt.

 

“Yes,” Cas said, looking up at them both earnestly. “Mushuk. In Uzbek it means _cat_. I think he likes it,” he added, smiling as the kitten pressed its head insistently against his palm, purring the entire time.

 

“Okay,” Dean agreed with a clap of his hands, which startled Mushuk and had Cas glaring at him, shielding the kitten protectively.

 

“Sorry,” Dean whispered, blatantly ignoring the snort coming from Sam's direction. “So. Got you a few things.”

 

Dean sat down on the floor cross-legged to sort through the bags. “Here's some books,” he said, resting them on the arm of the sofa for Cas to pick up one handed and inspect. “This bag's full of like... medicine and stuff, just in case. This one's toys, and those are a cat litter tray, dishes, a mat thing, and litter stuff. You know. Bags and scoops and stuff,” he said, nodding to the bag just out of his reach.

 

Cas looked at all of the things in front of him in wonder, nodding silently, fingers tickling at Mushuk's belly.

 

“Oh, and there's this bed too. And a blanket,” Dean said, sliding out said items on to the floor. He tapped the top book on the pile, resting his finger there as he added, “This book'll tell you when we need to take... Mush... to get jabs and stuff.”

 

Dean smiled hopefully up at Cas, and Cas nodded to show his acceptance of the shortened version of Mushuk's name.

 

“Now,” Dean said, semi-seriously. “He's your cat. Kitten. Pet,” Cas nodded back, equally seriously. “So. It's up to you when you feed him, where he sleeps... I'd... prefer his litter tray wasn't in the kitchen-”

 

“The bathroom,” Cas said immediately. “It is where we relieve ourselves. It should be the same for him,” which sounded a reasonable enough argument.

 

Dean smiled, rummaging in the toy bag and pulling out a large blue mouse. He rolled up from where he was sat on to his knees and leaned over Cas' lap, sneaking the mouse in front of Mushuk's awe-struck eyes, before he wriggled his paws out at it and latched on with the tiniest claws.

 

Sam had already shuffled across the sofa and was practically sitting on Cas' lap to get a look for himself, and he laughed loudly as Mushuk brought the mouse to his mouth and bit down hard on it, digging all four of his paws in this time.

 

Mushuk vs mouse amused all three of them for far longer than any of them would readily admit to, and finally Dean had to shift from kneeling on the cold floor. He stood, and stretched, the movement fascinating Mushuk, who instantly forgot the mouse and stared up at Dean with an intensity that Dean was sure he'd seen coming from Cas a few times before.

 

Dean's final item to retrieve from one of the bags was a tiny blue collar. He crouched back down, handing it over to Cas, who shook his head, and didn't move to take it from him.

 

“You can put it on him, Dean,” he said, beaming at him in gratitude, and as though he thought he was giving Dean a gift back.

 

Dean beamed back at him, as though he really was receiving some kind of gift, and very, very gently lifted Mushuk's head to carefully fit the collar around his neck, checking there was enough space for him to breath freely, before lightly scratching the back of his head.

 

“Suits him,” Dean whispered, looking down at Mushuk before back over at Cas.

 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said, so full of gratefulness that Sam felt the need to pull back a little as he anticipated what was coming, and then reached out to cover Mushuk's eyes as Cas surged forward to kiss his thanks into Dean.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Macska = cat = Hungarian


	3. Mphaka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mushuk soon became such a permanent feature of the bunker that none of them could really remember a time pre-kitten.
> 
> Mushuk's bed was in the corner of Dean and Cas' room, he had a toy box in the 'living room', and his own cupboard in the kitchen for his food, treats, litter, and all the other kitten paraphernalia a growing cat could want.

Mushuk soon became such a permanent feature of the bunker that none of them could really remember a time pre-kitten.

 

Mushuk's bed was in the corner of Dean and Cas' room, he had a toy box in the 'living room', and his own cupboard in the kitchen for his food, treats, litter, and all the other kitten paraphernalia a growing cat could want.

 

It was a surprise that Mushuk ever found time to learn to walk, what with the way that all three of them picked him up for constant snuggles when they thought the other two of them weren't looking. Not Cas, of course; he didn't care who saw him. But more than once, Sam would look up guiltily from where he'd been cradling Mushuk against his arm, or Dean would stop mid-conversation with Mushuk and blanch at the cleared throat announcing company, and all in all, Mushuk had what were supposed to be three grown men wrapped around each of his tiny little paws.

 

Mushuk 'assisted' Sam with research, chasing turned page corners and discarded pens across table tops, once walking across a tablet screen left open and bringing up an article that actually turned out to be very useful for what Sam was looking for.

 

Mushuk 'observed' Dean cleaning the Impala, balancing precariously on the hood and meowing feebly at the long way down to the ground, if he wasn't already safely in the crook of Dean's shoulder and purring into his ear.

 

Cas had a new lease of life.

 

Having Mushuk gave him a routine, a reason to step away from the constant TV and do other things with his time, like litter training and fake fishing so that Mushuk could attack the little cloth fish on the end of its plastic fishing rod. If he did take some time to catch up on his favourite shows, he had permanent company. Mushuk would curl up on his stomach and blink himself asleep, with the comforting weight of him often sending Cas to sleep a little himself.

 

Slowly, Dean watched Cas return to himself, and as Cas did his best to prove just how grateful he was to Dean for bringing Mushuk into his life, Dean felt very pleased to be on the receiving end of the gift that just kept on giving.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mphaka = cat = Chichewa


	4. Ngeru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Thousands of years ago, cats were worshipped as gods. Cats have never forgotten this." Anonymous

_"Thousands of years ago, cats were worshipped as gods. Cats have never forgotten this."_

_\- Anonymous_

 

 

It seemed right, Mushuk thought as he stretched into an almost backward _o_ shape that filled his entire bed, that he, as a _cat_ , would have his very own angel.

 

He had known, the second _Dean_ had taken him out of that cage he had had him imprisoned in whilst retrieving him from That Place, that The Angel, or _Cas_ , as his humans called him, was different.

 

Although the reverent way that _Cas_ sometimes spoke _Dean's_ name did, on occasion, make him wonder if _Dean_ might be part-angel too; he didn't get the same vibes from him, however.

 

But _Cas_. Cas really _was_ an angel; Mushuk could see the outline of his wings and hear his vibration in the air around him. It had taken him a little while to realise that the humans were too primitive to notice these things, but he could forgive them their stupidity since they were very attentive servants to him, after all.

 

 _Not servants_ , he corrected himself, chastised by the reminder of Cas' words. They were his care givers, his Provider Of Treats And Entertainment, yes. But never servants; that would be belittling of them. And he'd grown quite attached to them really, during the time they'd shared with him in his home.

 

Idly, Mushuk wondered what the humans would really think were they to be able to understand his and Cas _'_ conversations. He wasn't sure they'd understand anything quite so profound.

 

However.

 

 _Sam_ was a fantastic resource for getting to high places and exploring, and his hair not only provided much-needed kitten-dangle amusement, but it was also a great thing to practice preening on with his roughening tongue. Given the way Sam's hair often looked first thing in the morning, Mushuk thought to himself, his own _amendments_ were often an improvement.

 

 _Dean_ was actually surprisingly intelligent for a human, Mushuk allowed, rolling over and eyeing the many toys he'd made for him over the past few months. There was the unevenly weighted 'ball' with the rattling sound that he could pounce on forever and never quite get to catch. There was the remote controlled car he'd managed to set to run freely around the many corridors that the bunker provided, trailing fish, mice, sometimes even just scraps of that material the humans were incredibly fond of – _plaid_ , he thought it was called. The way Dean had set that up was, okay, almost ingenious, with all the edges flailing and flowing about like a many tentacled thing that gave Mushuk hours of amusement.

 

Potentially Mushuk's most enjoyable toy though, was the remote controlled helicopter that also dangled various things for his constant cognitive stimulation. Mostly because it was amusing to see the way the humans and Cas got so much entertainment out of it themselves; it was quite endearing, really.

 

Home was an intriguing place, full of nooks and crannies and casted shadows to play in. He had had many conversations with Cas about where was suitable for him to explore and where was not, for his own safety more than there being any restrictions of course, because this was, after all, _his_ home.

 

He liked the garage in particular, and he especially liked the Impala; often when he 'disappeared' and the humans were frantic with unnecessary worry, that was where he could be found. Either curled on 'her' hood seeping the heat away from its metal surface if they'd just arrived back from somewhere, or in what Dean liked to think of as _his_ seat whilst Dean continued his never-ending care of the car he called _Baby_ ; only something as uncultured as a human would think to name an inanimate object, and also give it a gender, Mushuk thought affectionately to himself.

 

Not many weeks after his arrival, Mushuk had demanded that his bed be removed from Dean and Cas' bedroom. He needed his freedom to wander the halls at night and chase shadows and wisps of dust, and he absolutely needed to be away from the _noises_ the two of them made when they were alone together. They clearly weren't procreating, since neither of them had a womb, but they really did seem to enjoy being _connected_ in that way. Mushuk couldn't help but wonder at the primitive nature of their urges sometimes, but then, not every creature was as perfect as a _cat_.

 

Still, love was love, Mushuk reminded himself then, and if Cas didn't love Dean, and Dean didn't love Cas, well. Mushuk was not a cat. Who was he to judge such things, just because he couldn't quite understand it for himself? He could see it in the way they looked at each other, the way their bodies just seemed to lean in, seek the other out. The words spoken, even when angry, were laced with affection, and care, and _need_. The pining that tinged the air when only one of them was present was practically tangible.

 

Yes, Mushuk thought to himself, _that_ was love.

 

Rolling and stretching again, Mushuk got to his feet, finished with his philosophical study of those he shared his home with. He wandered into the kitchen, decided that he no longer liked the flavour of food that was in the dish waiting for him despite it being his favourite just yesterday, and that he would get one of the humans' attentions for a replacement meal.

 

He began the long walk down the corridor to their bedrooms, always on the lookout for dust bunnies and misplaced toy mice; they got everywhere, and he had no idea how they did it. Once, on a really exciting morning, a beetle had crept under the door and scuttled across the floor, and Mushuk had had many minutes taunting and stalking the thing before Cas lectured him reproachfully and took the beetle outside. Cas had a strange fascination with insects that Mushuk understood even less than his apparent need to be attached to Dean at all times, but again; who was he to judge?

 

As he got closer to Dean and Cas' room, the telltale sighs and groans that indicated Cas had returned from his angelic battles tickled his over sensitive ears, and Mushuk meowed his indignance to himself at the noise, picking up his pace and heading for Sam's room with a scuffle of paws.

 

Mushuk leaned, stretched up the door and scratched, meowing in what Sam called his 'pitiful' tone to get his attention. He needn't have bothered really, since Sam had taken to leaving the door to his room ever so slightly ajar like the well-trained human he had become.

 

Mushuk padded softly towards the bed and didn't make it halfway across before Sam was scooping him up in his arms and murmuring nothings at him that really didn't make much sense, but sounded as though they were meant to be affectionate.

 

Mushuk rewarded Sam with a nuzzle into his neck, and the nuzzle also served as adequate distraction for them both at the slightly uncomfortable few steps it took to pass Dean and Cas' room. From the sounds of it, Cas was receiving a very enthusiastic welcome home from Dean, and Mushuk felt Sam pick up his pace in haste to get away from the noises. He was quite thankful for that himself.

 

With no one around to remonstrate, Sam let Mushuk stand on the kitchen counter, leaving him to parade around there whilst he reached into Mushuk's cupboards for his treats and shook an adequate sample on to the side for him.

 

Mushuk allowed Sam to pick him up and tuck him under his arm again, wandering through the bunker together in search of things to do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngeru = cat = Maori

**Author's Note:**

> *The name of this fic, and each chapter, is 'cat' in another language. The title of the fic is Estonian, and this particular chapter is Finnish.


End file.
